Phantom Shadows
by MinervasBibliophage
Summary: He remembered so much that he forgot. She forgot so much that she remembered.
1. Empty Chairs at Empty Tables

**A/N: Story and chapter titles taken from the musical _Les Misérables_.**

* * *

**Chapter 1: Empty Chairs at Empty Tables**

She came in silent as the grave, her footsteps unremarked by the metal grating of the floor. He was tinkering under the console, completely unaware and unprepared for her entrance when he heard her voice.

"Doctor, you need to eat."

"In a moment, Donna," he said through the screwdriver he had clenched in his teeth.

"No. Now," she responded emphatically.

The Doctor sighed as he slipped the tool out of his mouth and tried positioning it at the right angle above him, "Donna, I really need to get this done."

"We've been sitting in the Vortex for ages, and we can be here for a few ages more, but you really need to eat."

"Donna-"

"No, listen to me, Doctor. I don't plan on using Emergency Programme One just because you've starved yourself."

Lowering his arms out of the inner-workings of the TARDIS down to his sides, the Doctor frowned, "Only because I've starved myself? So you do plan on using it, but just not if I've starved myself?"

"Well, with how reckless you are I'm bound to use it eventually. And yes, if you starve yourself I won't use it because it's not in my plans. I'll just open the doors and let you out to float in the Vortex while I fly solo."

He had to lay there a moment to take that in, "That's harsh."

"And so's the realization that you're dead because I couldn't feed you."

"I'm almost done, Donna."

She snorted in disbelief.

"When I finish this-"

"No, you're not. Because when you finish this, then you're going to notice something else and try to fix that. And when you're done with that, you'll go to the other and never actually eat. Which you need to do. Right now."

"Donna, I really need-"

She made a strangled noise of frustration. Then there seemed to be a deep breath taken. She didn't say anything though.

He lay there a moment longer, contemplating if he should just come out to see what she was doing when he heard her voice again.

"Eat up, Spaceman."

The nickname was accompanied by a clatter.

Angling his head, the Doctor could see a thick sandwich on a plate sitting by his legs that were extended out from the console. He shimmied out with a grin, and took a large bite. He really was famished.

Looking around, he realized that she wasn't there anymore. "You're not going to eat with me?" he called out with his mouth half-full.

Her voice rang out from somewhere down the hall, "Who am I to take you away from your tinkering?"

He chuckled.

* * *

Again, like the first time, Donna had come into the console room like a ghost. No footsteps to herald her arrival before she was talking, "Doctor, you need to sleep."

"I will, I will," he dismissed her, "Just give me a tic."

"You haven't slept in a while, and you really should before you end up dead on your feet."

"I'm a Time-"

"Yeah, yeah, I already know that rubbish about your superior physiology and not needing to give in to baser needs. But you haven't slept in days."

"Well, when I finish this-"

"That's what you always say," she muttered.

"And this time I mean it."

"You say that too," she countered.

"Honestly, Donna," he began almost patronizingly from where he lay on his back underneath the TARDIS console. "You're worrying for absolutely no reason whatsoever." He almost dropped the spanner on his face as he discounted her opinion because his aching muscles were crying out for release. "If you're so bored, go read a book or something."

As he said it, he realized that probably wasn't the wisest thing to say. And definitely not the wisest way to say it. The Doctor could practically feel the storm building up in Donna; even the TARDIS seemed to be affected as her usual whirring and humming became more agitated. He readied himself for the implacable onslaught. Both of the verbal and physical variety.

"Spaceman," she growled in a warning tone, much like one typically used on a disobedient toddler, though more menacing since he could hear the restraint that she was trying to use.

"All right, all right," he hastily responded, appreciating his good fortune that she wasn't going to completely chew him out right now. Not yet anyways. Just one last twist to the chronomemoterra coil, and done. The Doctor shimmied out from underneath the console and leapt to his feet. Donna had already left. He started towards the hall, calling out to her with a smile, "How about a bedtime story?"

"Go to bed, Spaceman," her disembodied voice echoed down the hall from the general area of the library.

He frowned. Well, fine. If she didn't want to gently lull a tired Time Lord to bed then that was her prerogative. But it was his prerogative to get his comforts where he could, he thought to himself with a sly smile as he opened a door that wasn't his own.

Crawling into her bed, he snuggled into the comforter, rolling around a bit, reveling in the familiar scent of Donna. His inner voice told him he was being an idiot, but he paid it no mind. Though he did feel a twinge of disappointment that now the bed seemed to smell more like him than it did like her. How long ago did she say _she_ slept? He really shouldn't have wriggled so much. He pulled one of her pillows into his arms cuddling into it. That was better.

The Doctor held some small hope that she would come in and read him a story. Or even just come in and tell him off, which was far more likely. She didn't however. Not that it made much difference, he had dropped off rather quickly. He really was quite knackered.

* * *

"Come on, Donna!" the Doctor yelled from the console, a large grin on his face."What happened to 'we need to get out of the vortex, Spaceman?'" He bounded over to the door of the TARDIS, "There's a whole new world out there waiting for you!" He didn't open it yet though. He wanted to savor it, to see Donna's face when she first saw it, "A completely random world, just the way you like it! Might actually be a beach this time!"

There was no answering yell. No laughing demand to 'just hold on a minute, Martian-boy, I need to tie my trainers.' No footsteps on the grating of the console room or echoing in one of the cavernous halls as she made her way to him. No clatter from the kitchen where she might have been getting a snack, not wanting a repeat performance of her allergic reaction on Ptegorla. No sound of several doors being opened and closed in rapid succession as she looked for some random accessory that she couldn't find, accompanied by some choice words or a cry of frustration.

But most of all, there was no Donna.

The Doctor stood at the half-open door, his grin becoming strained, "Donna?"

The only response was the soft beeping and whirring of the TARDIS.

His smile fell to pieces, and his expression became hard, guarded. "Right then." He glanced around, unsure of what to do. The Doctor coughed, trying to get rid of the sudden tightness in his throat. With a soul-weary sigh, he looked up to the ceiling of his ship, _to talk to her better, obviously, not to keep the tears from falling._ "Please-" his voice cracked for a second, he coughed again, "Please don't do that again. Please." The Doctor squeezed his eyes shut, _it strengthens the telepathic bond of course; it has nothing to do with the rivulets that are threatening to come down his cheeks. _"I'll go out and explore this time, but please. Don't, just don't." It was coming out as a hoarse almost-whisper now, "I don't want to hear her voice if it isn't her speaking." He turned toward the door, pulling it open, before he had a second thought and muttered darkly, "And don't call me Spaceman."

The TARDIS let out a long mournful note. She hadn't meant to hurt her thief. She'd only wanted to make sure that he was taking care of himself. He needed someone.

Alone, the Doctor walked out into the world.

Outside, he only made it a few steps before he fell to his knees and sobbed. There was no witness to his misery except for his ship and the mountains that swayed in the breeze.


	2. Where My Friends Will Meet No More

**A/N: And now Donna's side of the coin.**

* * *

**Chapter 2: Where My Friends Will Meet No More**

Donna was walking home after a rather strenuous day at work. She wished it wasn't Shaun's day to have the car, because now she was the one stuck making her way through the shuffling crowds trying to get home. And in all that hustle and bustle, that's where she heard Him. Trailing right behind her.

"You were brilliant." No introduction, just a statement of fact in a tone brimming with pride.

"No," she responded over her shoulder, "I wasn't."

"Yes, you were!" He cried indignantly. "Always are." She could hear the grin in His voice.

Donna shook her head; there was no point in arguing with Him on that. He never faced the facts. "Probably going to get the slip." _Why couldn't she learn to keep her mouth shut? Always shouting at the world..._

"Eh..." He shrugged off her concern, and changed topics, "We should go somewhere. Let's travel."

She sidestepped some businessman jabbering on his mobile who wasn't walking fast enough for her taste. "Don't be ridiculous, I can't."

"It's just a thought."

"Your prattle's giving me a headache," she groused. _Why did He always bring up traveling?_

His voice turned cajoling, "Remember your trip to Eg- Strathclyde?" (She frowned at His fumble, _Had He been about to say something else?_) "Didn't let a little thing like your mother's wrath stop you at six. You enjoyed it."

"You're doing my head in," Donna called over her shoulder. It was barely a twinge, but maybe He'd take pity and stop with the travel nonsense. _Doesn't He know what "no" means?_

"Fine, fine," His voice is conciliatory, defeated, almost disappointed. "I'll let it drop."

Donna turned back to Him, feeling bad for dashing His little hopes, "Honestly, you don't-," but there was no one there. She stood in the middle of the sidewalk, looking around vainly for her trailing shadow while her fellow commuters walked around her. He was gone.

"Well, you didn't have to leave me,"she told the empty air with a hurt tone. "I can stand a little headache."

* * *

She was always restless in the night now. She would try to sleep, but she felt as though she should be doing something else. Also, Donna didn't seem to need as much sleep anymore, as though the sleep cycle held no meaning for her. So now she lay in her bed trying to think of something that would calm her enough to sleep. Her mind turned to earlier in the afternoon when He had told her she was brilliant. It had been sweet of Him. Completely delusional, but sweet nonetheless. The memory of it filled her with a sudden happiness and her inability to sleep fueled her initiative to get up and do something sweet in return.

Donna paid no mind to the sleeping form next to her as she flung the sheets off of herself and walked to the kitchen. Her mind rifled through her options of what she could bake as she rummaged through the pantry to see what they had on offer. Muffins, she could make Him muffins. They would be good for breakfast, and there were plenty of bananas to use. Too many bananas really. Donna didn't much care for bananas but she thought it was always good to have some on hand. Good source of potassium. Very important.

The oven was already preheated and she had just finished spooning the batter into the little paper liners in the pan when Donna heard him shuffle tiredly into the kitchen.

"What are you doing up?" the question was asked in the form of a yawn. "Why are you baking?"

"For what you said earlier," she said with a smile. Turning around to hand him the batter-covered spatula, Donna froze. Her smile almost slipped before she held it in place. Something was wrong. _It was Shaun._ Well, of course it was Shaun. Who else would it be? _Not Shaun._

He didn't seem to notice her strained smile when he asked, "What was it I said?" He also didn't notice when the smile faltered when he took the spatula to the sink to wash it off.

That wasn't why she gave it to him. _Or whoever it was she had meant to give it to._ If Donna had known he was going to rinse it off, she would've licked the batter clean herself first.

"Nothing," she answered quickly before turning back to the tray of muffins to put them in the oven.

"Nothing?" Shaun frowned. After thinking about it for a moment, "I don't know how I feel about that."

"What?"

"You rewarding me for saying nothing. Would you rather I didn't say a word?"

"No, it was just a dream," she scrambled for an excuse that wasn't completely mad. "You said something in a dream. And it was lovely so I decided to bake you banana nut muffins. You, umm, said, uhh, you said- Well I can't remember what you said, the dream's just floated away." She tittered nervously.

Shaun seemed to accept that answer, but he did ask, "Why banana?"

He was rewarded with a blank look, "Because you like banana."

"Well, I do," he placated. "But I prefer blueberry."

Donna just stared at him. "Oh."

"But banana is fantastic," he rushed to add. "Besides, we don't have blueberries. I should probably run down to the shops tomorrow."

She nodded absent-mindedly, "I'll make blueberry next time."

"Is midnight baking going to become a habit, then?"

"I don't know. Maybe if I keep having lovely dreams."

"If you have lovely dreams, you should probably stay in bed to enjoy them," he pointed out, trying to hide another yawn.

"Yes," Donna agreed as she picked up a dishcloth, "But dreams don't last forever."

She began wiping down the counters, clearing away every trace of batter and banana.

* * *

She finally listened to Him. She booked a flight, first one out of London, she didn't even care where she was going. Random just seemed like more fun. She left vague messages for Shaun, Mum, and Gramps about what she was doing and where she was going. To be honest, she hardly knew. But He had said she was brilliant, and with such conviction that Donna almost believed it herself and was willing to do anything for Him. And He had told her to travel, so travel she would.

Donna stood alone on the large hill, staring up in wonder at the stars above her. It was the Milky Way that almost seemed to burn a path through the stars. Gramps had shown her pictures of it in his astronomy books a few times since the light pollution in London had made it impossible to actually see it in the sky. But out here, in the middle of nowhere, the sight was breath-taking, absolutely extraordinary. Donna had never seen so many stars in the night sky. She felt like she could see every last one of them.

Her hand flexed instinctively, feeling as though something was missing. For a moment she regretted coming by herself, not bothering to ask for a companion, a hand to hold. Maybe next time. Maybe He could come with her.

She didn't know why, but she was rocking from side to side, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. It was comforting. Though she wasn't sure what she needed comforting for. Probably the overwhelming beauty of the stars splayed out above her. It would explain the tears that were now slowly falling down her cheeks. On that dark, lonely hill, Donna swayed in the breeze with tears and a smile of gratitude for her friend's suggestion, awe for the beauty above her, and an inexplicable sorrow.


End file.
